Jack Wyatt Dalton don't do sick!
by poxelda
Summary: For those who love Jack whump but remain unsatisfied (yes Gib, I mean you) here's my best version of sick Jack fic. warning for language (and of course, Mac whump included as a bonus)
1. Chapter 1

" I can't believe you're doing this." Jack husked. He sat against the wall his feet stretched out in front of him with his ankles crossed. He crossed his arms and watched the children playing around him like enemy combatants. Mac leaned forward and rubbed his temples. The winds blasted down on the small building like an eagle on prey. Mac rubbed his cold hands together and leaned forward trying to ease a crick in his back. Child-sized chairs were not meant for long legs. Luckily he'd gotten adept at making them mostly comfortable with his visits to Annabelle Pena.

"Would you have come otherwise?" Mac said with a smirk over his shoulder. Jack glared at him. For a second, Mac thought his partner was going to remind him exactly what the full force of a Jack Dalton punch felt like. The older man sniffed and wiped the back of his hand on his damp sleeve. Mac tried again with a more sympathetic tone.

"Look, Jack, you were getting sick before you took a dive into the arctic ocean."

"Which is totally your fault, by the way." Jack wrinkled his nose and turned away. They both waited but no sneeze followed.

"Look, big guy, I didn't know the penguin was going to swallow the transponder...we did save its life, right?" Jack glared until it hurt. He leaned over and put his head in the palm of his hand. Mac frowned at the slight wheeze he heard in Jack's breathing. He could feel his partner shivering with chills. Mac reached out a hand and placed it on Jack's sweaty forehead. Jack slapped it away.

"What're you doin'? I ain't a kid."

"You do it to me all the time." Mac pointed out. Jack managed half a grin.

"Exactly." Jack laughed. His moist lungs broke into rolling coughs. Mac bent forward and patted the older man's back.

"Easy, big guy. Remember to breathe."

"Wh-wh-what the fuck do you think-I- I'm doing." Jack growled back leaning forward and stretching. He felt as if his lungs were packed with cotton-steel.

"Jack! There's kids…" Mac muttered. Jack looked up at a room full of wide children's eyes.

"Sorry." Jack whispered. He pulled his arms closer and rubbed his arms. Mac noticed.

"Look, a blizzard coming in, we aren't going anywhere for a couple of hours. Let the doctors see you, get some rest then we can go, ok?"

"I can't believe you won't tell me where exfil is." Mac winced at the hoarseness of his friend. His own throat almost hurt in sympathy.

"You would have snuck away in the storm." Mac rubbed his temples clutching to the frail torn endings of his patience. Jack looked at him incredulous.

"What? No, that would be stupid." Mac raised an eyebrow. Jack fought Mac's gaze before collapsing back into a hunched pile of misery, "Yes, alright so I would have. We'd be in the air and on the way home instead of this…" Jack had no words for where they were. Mac chuckled.

The two men had found refuge in the small cement building after walking a mile in blizzard conditions. Mac's ears still rang with the continuous blare of the wind that had attacked them like a savage predator. The building was Trailsafe school, family clinic, and daycare. The tiny fishing community they had happened on had a population of 75. Although the sky out the small walls of the fortress like building looked black with night, school hadn't gotten out yet. Two women and one man ran the combination building. Out of the 75 people, 15 were children. The men and women of Trailsafe were a hardy lot cutting their lives out of this wild inlet of land. In the last communication they'd had with the team, Bozer had informed them joyfully that Trailsafe was the town with the most blizzard days year round.

The older members of the community most of Aleut descent swarmed along the shore braving the wild angry sea to gather fish or whales lost in the churning water as they beached or failed to go back into the surf. The older woman-Gela Tamarind-told the pair that the townsfolk would meet after school in the basement of the community center, the building they were now in, before the blizzard got "too bad." Mac and Jack had both wondered how bad "too bad" was.  
Unlike most humans, the residents of Trailsafe were happy. The small resilient natives enjoyed the raging weather the same way people in the lower 48 celebrated a sunny day after a bad storm. Mac supposed it made sense. Their entire economy was in fish or things given them by the sea. Gela's daughter Tatigat told Mac about the wealth swept to them after the Japanese Tsunami in 2005. They had tried to return as many items as they could, but they were a tiny village with few resources. With the frugality of their ancestors who had lived and died on this small rock, they had repurposed everything they had found. Mac respected the hell out of them for it. They had taken in the two men with reluctant wariness. In exchange for whatever medical care they could give Jack, Mac had fixed their generator. Having no oil or gas, they had built a reinforced wind turbine to change the blistering cold gales into electricity. It was an elegant design. Mac was excited just to examine it, helping fix and improve it was bonus in his book.

The grandson of the designer-Theo Travis-was the only man working in the building. Although calling him a man might be a stretch, Mac mused. He was a toothpick thin carrot top in hand knitted clothes that had been patched a hundred times or more. Gela and Tatigat had clearly adopted the kid. Mac liked the three. Theo was a sponge absorbing every nugget of info Mac shared. Mac wondered if others saw him like Theo. He shook his head as another loud gust slapped into the side of the building. Mac shared a nervous look with Jack. No one else was even mildly disturbed. Mac shrugged and forced himself to relax, about the building anyway. Jack's head leaned against his shoulder. Mac didn't like how thick his breathing was. Up close he could see how swollen Jack's jaw was. Mac frowned. Mumps? Tonsils? Infection? Mac shoved aside the possibilities which seemed to balloon off each other in his head. He reached an arm around Jack's shoulders and pulled the older man in closer. Mac looked for the millionth time down the small hall off the other side of the playroom.

He could hear the women's voices talking to each other and on a radio. Theo had gone down another long narrow hall that emptied into a small cafeteria. Mac swallowed whatever the kid was cooking it smelled good. He glanced at his watch. It felt like a century had passed since he and Jack had reached asylum of the community's front door but it had only been 30 minutes. The women had gone to prepare a bed for Jack and tried to radio exfil for the soggy men. Mac's hands still twitched with the need to use the radio himself, to take it apart, boost its distance by…

"We're ready, Mac." Mac nodded and turned to study Jack. Jack's face was red and beaded with sweat. His lips and jaw hung slack. Even though he was breathing through his mouth Mac could tell Jack was badly congested. Mac glanced at Gela who nodded and stepped back. Mac took a deep breath prepared for anything, he hoped.

"Hey, buddy, time to wake up." Mac said easing Jack to sitting. Jack absently swatted in Mac's direction, "Jack? C'mon, big guy."

"G'way." Jack husked. Mac swallowed in sympathy. He took a deep breath and glanced at Gela. Gela nodded and took another step back. Mac grabbed Jack's shoulder and shook it hard.

"JACK!" He shouted into the older man's ear. Jack's eyes snapped open with the same movement as he stood and glared at the room looking for a target. His eyes fixed on Mac and his fists balled, "Jack. Jack calm down. We need to get you to bed." Mac said as he leaned back and unfolded to standing. Jack blinked at him blankly. He glowered at the room.

"Why?" Jack swayed. Mac wasn't sure his partner was tracking or not.

"You're sick, big guy." Mac said as gentle as he could. Jack snorted and took a step toward the door. Mac caught his jacket sleeve. Jack glared at him.

"Let me go!" His voice was dark and full of menace. Mac swallowed and put out placating hands.

"Jack, you're sick, you need…"

"Sick?" Mac could almost see Jack's body expand with the coming blast. Mac winced as Jack's voice squeaked like a broken accordion more with each increase in volume, " I don't get sick, ever. You know that." Jack pulled his sleeve free and turned to the door Gela stepped in front of him. Mac frowned worried for the woman.

"Jack, you need rest. You look like death…" Jack glared at her.

"You've been listening to this one, huh? Well, he's smart but he ain' that smart. Let me tell you something little lady, I'm Jack Wyatt Dalton and Jack Wyatt Dalton don't do sick!" Jack squared his shoulders at his loud declaration. He looked triumphantly at Mac and Gela then collapsed to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite his partner's proclamation, Mac had seen Jack sick before. The older man would deny it, of course that would be more for himself than Mac. Mac followed Gela to a long, narrow room dark except for light bulbs hanging bare from the ceiling. Beds lined both sides of the room. It was either a dorm or the infirmary. If it was an infirmary, it had a noticeable lack of medical supplies.

Gela led Mac to the closest bunk. Jack moaned as they straightened him in bed. Mac looked down and swallowed. He had seen Jack sick before, but never like this. The older man was ghastly pale although his forehead and cheeks were pink with fever. His breathing was harsh and sounded like it scraped away tissue with every rise and fall of Jack's chest. Jack's face was slick with sweat and bullets of moisture rained from his short hair. Tiagat slipped in behind them. She and Gela began to remove Jack's clothes. Without his normal personality filling the room with life and hope, Jack seemed so worn, so fragile and...small. Mac cleared his throat and turned away rubbing his prickling eyes. Crying wouldn't help Jack. Mac studied the area around him. It was not encouraging. He saw basic IV equipment, three bags of fluids, shelves containing towels, gowns, boxes of gloves and what looked like cloth bandages. A cabinet with glass doors stood beside it. Mac crossed and opened the doors. A number of brown plastic bottles with handwritten labels filled the shelves. Mac pulled a few bottles down and squinted to read the labels. There were no dosages or names of medicines, all the bottles were labelled according to their use. "Laxative," "Cough syrup", "arthritis"...Mac dug through and pulled out two that said "antibiotic 1" and "antibiotic 2." He frowned and turned back to Jack's bed.

Theo and Tatigat had stripped off Jack's damp clothes. Gela was pulling on a gown. Tatigat had vanished behind a curtain and returned with a heavy iron heater. She plugged it in and soon the alcove was filled with warmth that made Mac aware of how cold he had been. He helped Gela pull an intricately embroidered quilt to Jack's waist.

Tiagat leaned over Jack and put her ear to Jack's chest. Mac's eyes widened.

"Don't you have a stethoscope?" The two women looked at him surprised.

"We get medical supplies twice a year when it is clear enough to kayak across the sea to Broken Path. They get supplies once a month from helicopter and have very little to spare. We are lucky we have what we have." Gela said. She refused to meet Mac's eyes and Mac could tell the woman was almost embarrassed. Mac rubbed his face. Tiagat held her hand against Jack's chest and tapped her index finger with the other hand. Mac's eyebrows rose. He could easily hear the difference between solid bones and more malleable organs. He doubted it would be exact enough to help them decide if there was fluid in Jack's lungs or not.

"Do you know about these?" Mac held out the two bottles of antibiotics. Gela smiled.

"Bottle 1 are for people who are not allergic to penicillins, bottle 2 are for those who are." She crossed to a double sink on the far wall of the room. Mac closed his eyes forcing his frustration down. He opened the bottles not surprised to find each container contained a motley of pills. No expiration date, no idea what pills...not good. Mac fought the urge to hit the wall. Focus, there had to be something...Mac turned. Tiagat pulled down a bowl and towels. She turned to fill it at the sink.

Mac sighed. He was no medic, but every time he'd ever been unfortunate enough to need medical care the first thing anyone did was put in IV fluids. He pulled down the fluid. .9% NS that had expired a year ago. Mac closed his eyes and ducked his head. He hoped that they weren't too serious about the expiration date. Behind the fluids he saw a curled up length of yellow tube and a jar full of needles. No alcohol wipes, not even a cotton ball. Mac pulled out the tubing. He guessed it was more than two meters long. He pulled out the bottle of needles and wanted to scream. They all had some degree of rust.

"Is this all you have?" He asked forcing his voice to remain neutral. The two women shared a guilty look.

"I'm afraid there's no much we can do…" Gela said softly holding a white ceramic bowl as Tiagat sat on the side of Jack's bed. She set the bowl on her lap and began to swab Jack's head and neck. Unkindly Mac thought the bowl probably doubled as a bedpan. His frustration over flowed.

"No! I don't accept that!" The two women looked at him wide-eyed and nervous. Mac forced his voice down a notch, "I'm sorry." Gela put an age crooked hand on Mac's shoulder.

"When the others return, we do have a medic- Owan Noble. He will be able to do more."

"Is he a doctor?"

"He had two years of medical school then served two tours in Vietnam as a medic." Mac took in and let out a deep breath. Ok, he can work with that.

"Ok, first of all do you have any alcohol." The two women looked each other and frowned.

"Old Martha?" Tiagat suggested. Gela grimaced and turned back to Mac.

"Probably a bottle of Vodka or two...we found an intact crate and Martha was the first one to grab it."

"That was two weeks ago, she may have drank it all by now." Tiagat added. Mac sighed and nodded.

"Ok, how do I find Martha?" The two women winced.

"She's probably in the cafeteria downstairs with the other elders. Theo should be done with supper soon." The second the younger woman said it, Mac caught a delicious whiff of food. His watering mouth reminded him how hungry he was. He shoved it aside.

"How long before Owen gets back?" Gela looked at a clock hanging from her neck by a knotted cord.

"Won't be for another hour. The winds circle here and they wait for the calm center before travelling." Mac nodded. Of course, why should he expect anything to go well?

"Could you boil these? I'll go talk to Martha…"

"Haggle you mean." Tiagat muttered. Before Mac could answer Jack cried out and moved to sit up. The younger woman squawked and jumped off the bed barely managing not to spill the water.

"Mac! Mac!" Mac crossed to Jack's side.

"Hey big guy, I'm here. It's ok. We're safe." Jack studied Mac for a long second. Mac hated the confusion he saw in his brother's eyes, "Jack, you with me?"

"I have to go get him...he's all alone and it's storming...he's only ten…" Mac's eyes widened. Jack began to cry, "I can't lose him again, he's my only kid…" Before Mac could answer Jack jumped forward and wrapped Mac in a bear hug sobbing on Mac's shoulder. Mac signed and returned the hug. He put his cheek against Jack's wet hair and rubbed Jack's sweat slick back.

"It's ok, buddy, I'm here. I'm safe. You haven't lost me, you kept me safe just like always…" Mac stopped and closed his eyes. He fought the tears that threatened to fall. He pulled back and met Jack's eyes. The deep brown eyes glittered with fever, "Jack, I promise Mac is safe. You need to rest, big guy." Jack's eyelids seemed to grow heavy. He clutched Mac's shoulders.

"You're sure he's alright? I can...can't lose him, you understand?" Mac smiled and gently pushed Jack back to the bunk. He ran his hand along Jack's scruffy face.

"I do understand. Get some rest, ok?" Jack blinked and slowly drifted off. Mac turned surprised to see both women watching him with tearful fond eyes. Mac rubbed his hair.

"He is your _shinga_." Gela said. Tiagmet nodded agreement.

"Shinga?"

"Older brother." Mac looked back at Jack and smiled.

"Damn right."

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Narrow broken stairs led down to a room as long as the entire building and twice as wide as the dormitory above. Unlike the unfriendly bare concrete upstairs this room's walls were lined with rich brown wood polished to a smooth mirror. Along the walls large masks overlooked the room. Mac looked at them closely. They were very old, probably centuries. Some had bulbous noses and toothy broken grins. One looked like Groot. The hall was lit by flickering oil lamps. A grand fireplace filled the center of the outer wall. Mac was almost sweating from the heat.

Huddled around the fire in quilts and afghans a group of elderly men and women chatted in a language Mac didn't understand. It had some sounds he never thought a human could make. They were flipping sticks at each other and there was some sort of hoop on the ground.

"Excuse me?" Mac said channeling his best Sunday church difference. Mama Bozer had insisted he go to church with the entire Bozer clan and woe to any one who stepped out of line. Mac could still feel the bony hardness of her hand against the back of his head when he and Bozer got caught talking. Mac cleared his throat pushing the memory away. Church was always an adventure with the Bozers.

The nine old people turned as one growing silent as they dissected Mac with rheumy eyes. They started muttering at each other. One man made a spinning motion with his hands and the others let out raucous laughs. Mac had no idea why, but he felt himself blush and stare at his shoes.

"Meno!" Theo said coming to Mac's rescue. Mac looked at him gratefully. The younger man grinned, "Don't mind them they don't have much to do except play jumping sticks and gossip."

"What did they say?" Mac glanced at the group who looked at him then turned away breaking into loud laughter.

"Uhm, it doesn't translate well but they called you a dizzy dolphin." Mac smiled. That's it? Theo looked away, "It's like a dog chasing its tail about to catch it but drowns because of distractions below the water. It's actually quite an insult." Mac nodded gravely. He turned to Theo.

"Ok, whatever. Do you know where Martha is?" Theo seemed to pale making his freckles appear darker.

"W..why do you want to see her?"

"I need some Vodka to help Jack." Theo winced.

"Are you sure?"

"I have to Theo." Theo shrugged and pointed to a small hall hidden in the dark of the room.

"Good luck, you're gonna need it." Mac gulped and squared his shoulders. How bad could an old alcoholic woman be?


	3. Chapter 3

*** I know I always give a warning for language, I have to double that warning for this chapter. Old alcoholic women cuss a lot, who knew?-Poxelda purveyor and pusher for all things whump. ;)

Theo led Mac to a long narrow hallway. They passed open doors leading to the kitchen, a pantry, and two rooms covered from floor to ceiling with repurposed clothing, tools and other necessities. Mac paused to look in the room. A smile played across his face, he went to step into the room. The things he could find in there!

"No, not that way." Mac turned and saw Theo looking at the closed door at the end of the hall. Mac frowned and left the room promising to come back and see what he could do with the treasure trove in the room.

Theo pointed at the door refusing to look at it, he stared at his shuffling feet obviously wanting out of the hall.

"You don't have to…"

"Ok, good luck." Theo turned and vanished. Mac watched him with raised eyebrows. The door said "Martha Tuane, Head Trader." Mac mentally rolled up his sleeves and braced himself. He paused realizing the chatter from the cafeteria had gone silent. Mac shook his head. He felt like he was being punked and all the ears in the building were waiting to hear what happened. Mac straightened his shoulders. Punked or not there was no way he was coming back down this hall without Vodka for Jack.

Mac softly knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked louder. No answer. Mac pounded as hard as a cop about to raid a drug house. He heard a small electrical motor followed by a metallic scrape along stone.

"Uh...Martha? My name's Mac-"

"FUCK OFF ASSHOLE!" Mac took a step back. He looked down the hall not surprised to see the old people gathering their chairs across the end of the hall. Some smiled, some looked afraid for him. Mac scowled.

"Look! I need…"

"Go away cocksucker!" Ok, that's it. Mac yanked the door open. He had a brief glance of shelving full of bric brac and trash. The room was dimly lit casting dark shadows in every corner.

"MOOOOTHEEER FUUUUCKEER!" Mac whirled in time to see a DIY wheelchair hurtling across the room at him. The hunched old lady looked like a monster as she flew towards Mac. Her hair was a wild cloud of wiry grey fury. She wore nothing except a cloth tied diaper. Her wrinkly sagging breasts bounced against her belly as she brought up two whalebone knitting needles and sped toward Mac.

"Crap." Mac jumped to the side as graceful as any matador. He jumped up on the shelf his heart pounding as the shelf creaked and threatened to collapse under his weight. Mac climbed higher trying to go over and around the crazy crone.

"You cocksucking son of a bitch! I'll kill you!" Mac made a jump for the stone floor behind the makeshift wheelchair. He wasn't fast enough.

"Yeoow!" Mac cried as his thigh was pierced to the bone by a knitting needle. He tumbled off the shelf landing in the evil granny's lap.

"Rape! Rape! Rape!" The woman screamed smacking him over the head with both knitting needles and her hard knotty knuckles. She smelled steeped in alcohol and soaked with urine. Mac's stomach churned as he rolled across her damp lap and sprawled loose limbed across the sticky floor. He pushed to his feet and stepped backwards as Martha whirled around letting out a cackle that would make the Wicked Witch of the West hang her head in shame. Mac studied the wheelchair.  
The two back wheels were mismatched and hooked up to a small electric motor by stretched women's nylons. The seat and footrest were made of planks pale from drifting in from the ocean, but stained with a foulness Mac didn't want to ponder. There were no front wheels only skids made from broken skis. Mac looked around the room, his eyes lit up when he saw a wooden crate with Russian written on the side. He turned to limp for them. Something heavy crashed into the back of his head sending him face first to the slimy stone again.

The wheelchair scraped closer like a sword dragging across the floor of a dungeon. Mac rose to all fours shaking his head. Another blow came. Mac moaned and rolled onto his back.

"DIE DIEDIE!" With each scream Martha thumped down with the thick rod of an unspooling handmade broom. Mac covered his head wincing at the bruises he was accumulating. He gritted his teeth then pulled out his SAK. He opened the scissors with his teeth then leaned over and cut the nylons corded around the wheelchair's wheels.

"NO! You cocksucking, motherfucking asshole!" Mac ducked under the swinging broom and dodged the knitting needles. They scratched deep into his neck. Mac scrambled over to the box and tore into the crate. The crate held 12 bottles, it was empty. Mac scrambled around the floor counting the empties. 11-where the hell was the…

"Looking for this? You shit sucking mother fucking cocksucker?" Mac staggered to his feet wincing at the pain in his thigh. Martha held up a half-empty bottle of vodka. She grinned at Mac and drank half of the liquid in the bottle. She cackled spitting vodka across the room. Mac gritted his teeth.

"Ok, what do you want?" Martha leaned forward grinning at Mac. Mac fought not to turn his head away at her stale rotten breath. She rocked trying to scoot her chair closer. Her eyes flashed with frustration. She put the cover on the vodka and tucked it beside her thigh. She put her long sharp knitting needles across her lap and aimed the scraggly end of the broom at Mac, both hands shaking.

"Gimme your jacket." Mac backed up. The image of the old woman wearing his leather jacket over her diaper made his stomach churn. The woman laughed and lifted her hips. She pulled out an empty vodka bottle and threw it at Mac. Mac's temper flared. He caught the bottle in midair turned and spun it back at her head. It bounced off her head and smashed when it hit the floor.

Martha dropped the broom and clutched her head with both hands. A steady trickle dribbled between her hands. She looked at Mac equal parts hurt and horrified. Her shoulders hunched and she began to wail. Mac closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He had just broken a bottle over a sick old woman who probably had dementia. He rubbed his face and stepped closer. He took the broom from the side of her wheelchair.

"Look, I'm sorry. I need that vodka to help my friend…"

"You hurt me!" Tears ran trails through the dirt on her face, "You hit me, I'm bleeding. You hurt me! Everyone hates me!" Martha began to sob. Mac felt sorry for her and took a step forward.

"You could be nicer…" The woman wailed and held out her hands for a hug. Mac hesitated. In that pause he realized his mistake, he'd gotten too close. Mac cried out in pain as both knitting needles sliced into the same thigh. His leg dropped wanting to collapse. He ignored it.

"You mother fuck…" Mac grabbed the knitting needles out of her arthritic claw and tossed them across the room. Martha rained down bony blows with all of her might. Mac knew he'd be wearing more bruises. He snagged the vodka bottle before she could throw it across the room. He planted his foot and shoved her wheelchair away with a shriek of metal. Mac turned and limped toward the door. Martha turned up her volume and saltiness of the insults that chased Mac. He paused at the door,

"I hope you rot, you evil hag." He growled. He slammed the door shut behind him and grimaced at the swears and thumps from the other side. Mac shook his head. He wrinkled his nose. He stank and hurt. He straightened and hobbled down the hall. The rest of the community had returned. Mac paused shocked when a beer was shoved into his hands and the entire room full of people broke out into cheers and patted him on the back. Mac nodded and offered a fake smile of thanks as he pushed through the press of bodies white knuckling the precious bottle of vodka.

"Mac! Mac!" Mac shoved toward Theo. Theo grabbed Mac's arm. His eyes were wide.

"Theo, breathe, what's wrong?"

"It's Jack!" Mac felt his heart slam against his chest wall as he followed the young redhead. Before they reached the stairs there was an earthshaking boom and all the lights went out.


	4. Chapter 4

Mac blinked. The lights around the long room were off, but not the small oil lamps or the fire. He heard screams coming from above the ceiling. Mac turned to Theo.

"Go check on the windmill." Theo's face looked pale and deep-eyed in the flickering shadows. He nodded and vanished through the crowd. All the people in the room had lived in difficult situations their entire lives. They murmured then reached out and took the oil lamps down. Mac grabbed one before they were all gone. A large bearded man turned, his face serious.

"We have to go to our homes, this is the worst leg of the blizzard and without electricity…" Mac nodded over his shoulder. He was more about the sounds of a fight upstairs. He climbed the stairs two at a time moving as fast as he dared without blowing out the small flame in the lantern.

The infirmary was black. The small lantern fought the darkness valiantly but only gave clear lighting to a ten foot circle around him. He heard the Delta's familiar growl and the grunting of another man above the scrapes and clattering of fighting.

"Mac!" Gela hissed stepping into the light and pulling Mac across the room.

"Stop it!" Tiagat was bent over the two combatants trying to pull Jack off of the guy under him. Mac shoved the lamp and vodka into Gela's hands and gently pulled the younger woman aside as he reached down and grabbed his partner around the torso and pulled backwards. The fact that he was able to was a measure of how weak and sick Jack was. Mac grunted as he hauled Jack's near dead weight to the bunk and sat him on it. Jack pushed back. In the dim flickering shadows, his eyes were dark caverns of confusion with a reflective glint of sickness. Mac winced at how sweaty and hot Jack felt. Mac could feel the heat of the fever inches from his friend. Mac bit down on his alarm. If he had to guess, Mac thought Jack might be hitting the 102 degree mark.

Jack wobbled to his feet and tried to shove Mac away. Mac's thigh screamed at him with the effort of stopping the more muscular man. Mac knew that if Jack had been himself he'd easily mowed down everyone in the room without breathing hard. Mac was able to sit him back down. And held Jack by the shoulders when the pale older man stopped fighting and sat wheezing, eyes closed, and breath sawing in and out of his congested airway.

"Hey, brother, what's going on?" Mac asked ducking to meet his partner's exhausted gaze.

"Gotta...gotta get outta here...IEDs...caravan will...Mac? "

"I'm here buddy, don't worry I got the IEDs."

"All...all of them? Riley…" Mac raised an eyebrow.

"She's safe at home, partner. Everyone is safe."

"Y..you sure?"

"Absolutely. You need to get some rest." Jack leaned forward and wrapped Mac in a tight hug. Mac stood stiff, surprised a second before he returned the gesture. Jack burst into tears. Mac frowned.

"Hey, hey, talk to me, Jack. What's wrong?" Mac pulled back so he could meet Jack's distraught eyes.

"I let you down, I left...the storm…" Mac's face softened. He'd had fevers high enough to drudge every nightmare from his subconscious. It always mingled with a bit of reality. It always sucked. Jack began to shake. Mac pulled the tangled blankets from the other side of the bed and wrapped them around Jack. Jack pulled them close and looked at Mac a picture of misery. Mac put both of his hands on Jack's shoulders.

"Jack, you didn't leave me, ever. You've kept everyone safe. You're having nightmares caused by a fever." Jack frowned at him not buying it. Mac gently pushed Jack back on the bed and pulled his legs under the covers. Jack reached out and snagged Mac's forearm.

"Promise?" Jack's rasping voice was now a painful whisper. Mac sat on the side of the bed and brushed the side of Jack's face holding onto the older man's hand.

"Have I ever lied to you?" Jack studied him long enough Mac squirmed with the memory of hiding his search for Nikki and lying about it. Jack's eyes were growing heavy.

"How'd I get sick?" Jack challenged.

"You dove after a penguin into the arctic sea."  
"Oh. Right, I remember. Fucking penguin...shoulda ate it." Mac smiled as Jack's eyes sunk closed and he drifted off to sleep. Mac didn't like how swollen his throat was or how his breathing was a strident snore. Mac leaned forward studying his resting partner. Even in sleep, Jack didn't relax. He was tense, ready to fight to protect all he held dear.

Mac sighed. He teased Jack about being a helicopter parent, but secretly he loved being counted among the elite group Jack called family. The thought of losing Jack...Mac felt his entire chest hitch with terror. He closed his eyes and fought to deep breathe. It wasn't going to happen, he vowed. Not now, not ever If he had anything to do about it.

"Mac?"Gela said at his elbow. Mac jumped startled. The older woman pointed at a hulk of a man with native features and a lion's mane of dreads. He was dressed in clothes made from animal skins. Mac found himself staring at the man's left leg, or lack thereof. The man had a wrist-wide column of whale bone where his left calf should be. Although he couldn't make out details, he could see ornate scrimshaw carved its length. If the man ever tried to sell it on the mainland he'd make a fortune. Mac's mouth quirked at the corners. Assuming the buyer didn't mind its history of being a peg leg.

"I'm Owan Noble." The man's voice was deep and felt like it moved the entire room with its powerful reverberation. Mac shook his hand and stood up. He crossed his arms.

"What do you think?"

"I think tonsillitis, definitely pneumonia." Owan said taking the lamp from Gela and leaning over Jack with it. He grinned at Mac, "I also think he would have kicked my ass if he wasn't so sick." Mac chuckled and agreed. Owan straightened and studied Mac a long minute. Mac answered the silent question every vet asked another.

"EOD, Afghanistan two tours." Mac said. The man seemed impressed. He glanced at Jack, "Jack's my overwatch."

"Still?"

"Always." Owan nodded.

"And it seems you're his?" Mac smiled fondly at Jack.

"As much as I can be, although I'm usually the one sick in bed." Owan laughed.

"As skinny and pale as you are I'm not surprised." Mac glared at the man who laughed and turned to assess Jack more closely.

"What about you?"

"1st Air Cav, two tours Vietnam." Mac's eyes widened.

"Ranger."

"Born and bred." They both shared long gazes across bloody battles miles and decades apart, but present in that room. Owan broke the spell and took the vodka from Tiagat. He shook his head.

"I was a medic back in Nam and I gotta tell you, brother. The med kits we used were light years better than what these folks have, it's pitiful." Mac nodded. Owan looked up at Gela, "But they do the best with what they have." Mac agreed. Owan looked over Jack. He handed the lamp to Mac and felt Jack's neck. Mac could tell the bigger man was worried.

"Can you help him?" Mac hated how he sounded like a teenage when he spoke.

"If I had more light, I could take out his tonsils. I suspect they got infected and swimming in the cold water brought the virus to his lungs. I have to drain the fluid from his lungs or he'll drown." Owan's voice was apologetic and disheartened. Mac refused to acknowledge anything remotely like defeat.

"What do you need?"

"I need to know where the most fluid is to do the most good. It would help me lessen the depth of the tube so I'd have a better chance of not hitting an organ, but I don't have any way of putting in a chest tube." Mac nodded.

"Ok, what else?" The three Trailsafe residents gaped at him, Mac sounded as if he were making a grocery list.

"Electricity, I have an old cauterizer to take out the tonsils with...but without electricity…?"

"Ok, you get Jack prepped, get some fluids going. I'll take care of the chest tube and will see what I can do about assessing his chest better. Theo is looking at the wind turbine. Hopefully, it'll be an easy fix. I hope to have it on so I can call my exfil team, they have medical supplies." Mac huffed and stood up. He faltered to his right. Gela held out a hand steadying him.

"You're bleeding?" Tiagat said crossing to him. Owan moved to stand up. Mac straightened and motioned for the others to step back.

"I'm fine, let's focus on Jack. I'm going to check on Theo then browse your store room." Before they could say something else, Mac hobbled through the dark and descended the stairs. The hall was empty and had no more oil lamps. The fire in the fireplace was dying. Mac frowned. He needed light.

Mac went into the kitchen. If the infirmary had no medical supplies the kitchen more than made up for it. Three walk in coolers, four refrigerators, and a long gas stove that stretched along one entire wall. Mac resisted the urge to open the foodstores. If electricity wasn't immediately forthcoming it would help keep the food cold.

Mac crossed to the opposite corner which had three rows of metal shelves stacked with plates, bowls, pans and silverware. Mac smiled. This he could work with. He pulled out a deep pan and filled it with oil. It smelled of fish so Mac guessed it was either made from seal or whale. He crossed to the stove. Mac snagged a dirty cloth napkin and rolled it into a tight tube of cloth. He soaked it in the oil and laid it on the side. Mac ducked under the stove relieved to find the pilot light on. He turned it up a little, rolled up another napkin and moving carefully lit the other napkin. At first the entire bowl flared to life, Mac threw his match rag on the ground and stomped on it. The makeshift lamp dimmed to a steady orange glow. Mac coughed. A smelly smokey glow. It'd do.

Mac turned to the silverware. Nothing was in a set. Mac studied the hodgepodge. He dug to the bottom corners and grinned. He pulled out a cake decorating tip. He set those on the counter. He found a funnel, small roll of plastic food wrap, long rubber tubing six feet from the sprayer over the sink and four feet of thinner tubing he stole from the back of one of the small refrigerators. He lucked upon two large almost empty jars of mayonnaise and a drawer of fittings. He chose washers and two corks that came from a wine bottle. Best of all he found duct tape.

Mac worked quickly and smoothly. He cut a foot long length of the tubing and squeezed it over the pointed end of the funnel. He pulled out some plastic wrap and covered the end of the funnel duct taping it taut. He rolled a ring of duct tape and put it around the edge of the small tubing. He secured everything with another layer of duct tape then held the tubing to his ear. He placed the funnel against his chest and was rewarded with the soft racing beat of his heart. Stethoscope? Check.

Mac cleaned out and dried the mayo jars and cut two holes in each lid. Mac cut the corks into thirds. He shoved these into the holes and cut out the middle. He cut strips of the longer tubing and grunted as he wiggled the tubing through the cork. The first bottle had one long tube feeding in, one short tube feeding out. The end of that tube fed into the second jar hanging open about an inch from the bottom. Mac put an inch and a half of water in the second jar, just enough to cover the end of the tube. He sealed the system and sighed. Not the best, but it'd do.

He cut open the frosting tip wincing when he sliced his thumb open. Dammit that hurt! He grabbed a mostly clean napkin and wrapped it around his thumb duct taping it in place. Using the heat from his oil lamp Mac molded it into a pointed circle. He shoved this into the tubing attached to the first jar. Studying what he made he nodded. It was the best he could do. He gathered all of it and scurried through the darkness back to Jack's bedside. Mac was pleased to see a makeshift IV hanging running fluids into Jack's arm. Owan looked over the homemade stethoscope and grinned.

"Outstanding!" Mac nodded setting the jars up on the floor. Owan carefully listened to Jack's chest. The other three stood silent. Owan nodded and put his finger on the space between Jack's fifth and sixth ribs on his left side.

"I think right there." Mac nodded. Owan turned to face him, the vodka bottle in hand, "I don't have anything to numb the pain." Mac nodded and sat on Jack's other side. Owan nodded and dowsed Jack's skin and the pointed end of the chest tube with vodka. Mac swallowed and leaned over Jack. He crossed the older man's arms over his chest and put his weight on them. Gela and Tiagat laid across Jack's legs.

"Ready?" Owan asked. They all offered grim nods. The man pulled the feeble light closer and sliced into Jack's flesh. Jack's eyes snapped open and he began to struggle. Mac had to work to keep Jack's arms covered. If they got loose...Even sick Jack could easily take all of them out. Gela and her daughter held on to his kicking legs but were still thrown off balance several times. Each time they stood up again and held on with more determination. Owan ground the metal tip deeper into Jack's side. Jack arched his back screaming. Owan put a hand on Jack's side trying to limit Jack's bucking to no avail.

"Jack! Jack! It's gonna be ok, I promise brother. I promise." Tears rolled down Mac's face. Jack's eyes met his.

"Mac? Why...doin' this to...me?" Jack closed his eyes and screamed again, the muscles in his neck standing taut as his head rocked back.

"Almost there...almost…" Owan said.

"WHY?" Jack's voice ended with that one horrible question hanging in the dark room. Mac's tears ran freely and he leaned forward resting his head against Jack's.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...hang in there...I'm so sorry…" Mac repeated it in Jack's ear over and over until the man finally passed out. Mac sat back and rubbed his face. He glanced at Owan who was duct taping the chest tube in place. Immediately blood and lung secretions filled the tubing. Mac tilted Jack so gravity would help. The water in the second jar began to occasionally bubble. Mac slumped in relief. It was working.

Mac rubbed Jack's back and moved the pillow until his partner looked as comfortable as he could.

"Ok, I'm going to go make up an antibiotic cocktail." Gela said. Without looking up Mac called,

"Not allergic to penicillin." The three settlement folks shared a knowing look and stepped away. Tiagat returned a few minutes later with a bowl of cool water and rag. Mac offered a tepid smile and soaked the towel. He patted Jack's face. The older man's tears mingled with his sweat, but Mac swore he could tell which were which. Mac paused and wiped his own with the rag.

"Mmc?" Jack whispered. His eyes slit open.

"Yeah, brother, I'm here." Mac said cursing the warble in his voice. Jack's eyes closed and he wheezed a few minutes before he opened them again. His voice was so hoarse and soft Mac had to put his ear up to Jack's mouth to hear him.

"You 'k?" Mac shook his head. Only Jack.

"Yeah, brother, I'm fine. You rest."

"'K...did I get 'em?"

"Who?"

"Penguin...fuckin' thing stabbed me." Mac laughed.

"Yeah, buddy he's dead."

"Gonna et 'em." Jack's eyes closed and he drifted off. Mac's laughter vanished into tears. At that minute, Mac knew there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his brother. If he had to he'd find a penguin and grill it if he had to.

"It's gonna be ok, Jack. I promise." Mac repeated over and over as he swabbed sweat from Jack's face, neck and chest. Mac thought it was more for himself than the sleeping man, but he offered it anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mr. MacGyver?" Mac snorted and lifted his head. He winced at the crick in his neck. He looked around him. Jack was snoring loudly his breathing wet and meaty. Owan, Gela and Tiagat were across the room huddled around a table barely lit by a half-burnt candle. Mac blinked his brain taking a second to catch up. He looked up to find Theo bending over him.

"Theo...wha?" It came slamming into him. Windmill, electricity, storm. Shit. Mac stood up, his thigh burned and melted. Theo steadied him.

"Mr…"

"Theo, it's Mac. What did you find out?" Theo tightened his grip on Mac's sleeve. His face was pale, his eyes wide with panic.

"The blades are shattered, there's no way to fix…" Mac put a hand on the panicking teen's chest.

"Theo, stop. Breathe. Take me to the tower." Theo stopped and forced himself to take a deep breath. Mac followed him wincing at the constant throb of pain everytime he moved his leg. He ignored it. Gela, Tiagat and Owan worked over a steaming bowl of soup. Owan crumpled a small pile of antibiotics in it. Mac's mouth watered. They looked up as the pair passed them. Mac paused.

"For Jack." Owan whispered. Mac nodded and rubbed his eyes. How long had he been asleep? Mac shook his head and followed Theo down the dark stairs. Mac shivered. Without the heat running the cement building felt like a freezer. The fire had almost gone out completely. Only a few embers remained lit. A bony woman hunched over the fireplace trying to stoke up a fire. Mac paused in surprise.

"M...Martha?" The woman smiled and stood up.

"No, she's my mother. I'm Celia." Mac shook the woman's hand. It was smooth, hard and cold. Celia looked down at the fire and rubbed her hands together.

"My mother has no other heat, I'm trying to keep the fire going…" The woman turned and sniffed, "Owan came down and helped me get her in clean warm clothes, but...we had to restrain her and there's no heat." Mac put a hand on her shoulder his mind spinning. He smiled.

"Do you have old coffee grounds around?" Theo and Celia looked at each other their eyes widened.

"Yes, they are used to help our gardens grow. We have them in a compost heap in the pantry." Theo said. Mac nodded.

"Ok, take some sort of wrapping, paper is perfect. Roll dry coffee grounds into logs and tie them with string. They won't burn as long, but there'll be less smoke and the fire will be hotter." Celia grabbed Mac's hands. His hands felt hot compared to her cool skin.

"Thank you! I know she's a horror, but…"

"She's your mom, and you ain' got but one." Celia leaned forward and kissed Mac's cheek. Mac nodded and turned motioning for Theo to lead. His heart felt sluggish as his thoughts circled back to Jack. Mac shook his head and shoved memories aside. He had to focus.

At the rear of the building a long hall lined with coats and winter clothing of all sorts led to the back door. The howling blizzard shook the walls. Mac shivered his breath fogging in front of him. If Theo hadn't been carrying a lamp Mac wouldn't be able to see anything. Theo paused to grab a fur lined parka from the wall. He handed it to Mac then grabbed one for himself. Mac didn't ask. The coat was big on him, but the short fur inside was warm and smooth. Seal, Mac thought.

The blizzard outside was the worst weather Mac had ever been in, and that included Siberia. The first blast sucked the air from his lungs and almost knocked him off his feet. Mac cried out as the blowing snow scoured off the first layer of his skin, winter parker or not. He fell into a thick tow chain. Mac fell to one knee as his wobbly wounded thigh gave out. Theo grabbed him and tugged him back to his feet. Theo put Mac's hand on the chain and motioned for the blonde to follow him. Mac nodded and sucked in a breath so cold it burned.

Thinking of the path he'd taken earlier that day he guessed the chain was 100 ft. long. In the swirling darkness he found himself in, he had no idea what direction he was going, how far Theo was from him. If it wasn't for the chain, he'd be lost within 10 ft. Mac focused on sliding his frozen fingers along the chain. He fell into a timeless dizziness.

Then it was over. Theo pulled him into the sudden silence of the building that held the windmill and its controls. Made of the same steel as the windmill and concrete. The squat round tower looked like a pill box from WWII. Mac leaned against the wall shaking off his clothes and trying to stop the darkness around him from spinning. He coughed and shook snow off his hair.

"Mr…"

"Mac, Theo, just Mac." Mac said offering the kid half a smile. Theo nodded. Mac patted him on the shoulder and climbed the steel ladder built directly into the steel walls. Mac climbed twenty feet before he stepped out into a circular room. Most of it was filled with the workings of the turbine. Mac paused and opened the hatch of the motor. He studied it.

"The cogs are stripped, but we have spares for those. I can change them." Mac nodded and crossed to a cement staircase. He pulled his parker closer as his face was again slapped by a blast of snow and wind. He climbed out onto a platform. He grabbed another tow chain and fought to keep from sliding off the concrete.

Mac spun and looked up at the creaking steel windmill above him. Even in the white swirling blackness Mac could see the rotors had been snapped in half. Mac gasped fighting to breath against the solid wall of air that slammed into his face. Glancing down he saw the remnants of a piece of driftwood the size of an oak tree. He nodded to Theo and they worked their way back to the main hall.

Mac slid off his coat and crossed to the blazing fire. He closed his eyes and took in the smell of burnt coffee. Jack had been brought down. He laid motionless in a cot beside the fire. Celia sat beside him wiping his brow. She looked up and smiled at Mac. Mac nodded gratefully. He ran his hand through his wet hair. Owan joined him.

"Mac, we have to do something sooner rather than later. Jack is having more trouble breathing and his fever is getting worse." Mac closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was exhausted and felt more than a little sick. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"Ok, I have an idea. Do you have a map of the inlet, a pen, and a compass?" Owan frowned and nodded. Gela crossed to Mac's side and studied him.

"You need rest or you're going to end up in bed like Jack." She murmured. Mac studied Jack. Lit by the brighter firelight he could see how awful his partner looked. He was an unhealthy mottled pale with sweat pouring down his face. His chest shone with the wash of sweat on his skin. Mac squared his shoulders. He looked down at Gela.

"I'll rest after Jack's taken care of." Gela shook her head.

"I knew you'd say that. At least let me take care of your leg." Mac went to agree when Celia returned. He turned away and grinned. Celia had done him proud. She had found a handheld GPS unit. It was older than he was and didn't work. Mac grinned.

"This is Owan's. Will it help?" Celia asked.

"I think it will with a little tweaking." Mac crossed to an empty table. He took off his parka and tossed it on the other side of the table. He pulled out his knife and cell phone. A cell phone's signal relies on radio waves being able to reach a tower where it is sent to a satellite then returns the same way. Trailsafe was very far away from any sort of tower and the storm killed any chance of a signal going anywhere.

Mac and Jack had had a satellite phone, but it had been lost in Jack's dive after the penguin. Mac popped open the GPS unit and smiled. The batteries were corroded and a couple chips were burnt out, but the rest of the unit was intact. Mac pulled out his cell and popped it open. He leaned close and squinted in the dim light. The headache that had been building exploded. Mac had to stop and rub his eyes often. He changed out the chips and popped out the batteries. He rewired the unit so the lithium battery from his phone would power the unit without blowing it with the increase of voltage.

Mac tucked it all carefully back in the case. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Sparks of lightning exploded behind his eyelids.  
Assuming the satellite it connected with was still in orbit and working. He turned it on. It popped into life. It took a minute to calculate the coordinates popped up. Mac did some mental math. He knew where the infil had landed and knew he was within five miles of that. It worked! Mac let out a breath of relief.

Mac looked up as Tiagat sat beside him. She held a long rolled up map.

"This is the one from the school. I hope it works." Mac stood up and unfurled the paper. The map showed the basic geography of the inlet. Mac rubbed his head. He found the location of his infil. He marked that on the map and marked the location of the village. He was surprised at the distance he and Jack had travelled.

The exfil location ended up being much closer. Following the land about 5 miles. Mac groaned. There was no way, even with the GPS, he'd be able to walk 5 miles in the blizzard, and that was assuming the exfil helicopter had been on time and managed to land. Mac leaned closer. There was a thin line that cut across the edge of the ocean. He looked up at the woman beside him.

"What's this?"

"That's the fishing wall on one side we get fresh fish from the ocean, on the other we have a tidal pool where shellfish grow." She paused and took in Mac's nod, "You can't travel across it in this weather. The waves are too strong and it will be iced over." Mac glanced at Jack. His partner's breathing was worse and had become more stridorous. No one said anything but they all knew his airway was closing. Without removing his tonsils his airway would be plugged.

"I have no choice." Mac said softly. Taking the fishing wall cut the distance to a mile and a half. It was a slim chance, but better than none. If the exfil helicopter wasn't there? There was no hope for Jack and Mac didn't really care if he came back or not.

***FYI: Infected tonsils don't grow enlarged as fast as they do in my story and hardly ever result in pneumonia in the real world, but we aren't in the real world are we? Hee. Hee.


	6. Chapter 6

Mac's head was going to explode. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Mentally he reviewed his calculations. Mac sighed and wiped sweat off his forehead. He'd figured the torque differential as close as he could. He wrote down a recipe after making sure the small village had all the ingredients readily available. It would be an organic oil with an extremely low freezing point. Mac sat back mentally rechecking his calculations.

Theo plopped in the seat beside him. A cold wind and snow seemed to swirl around him as the kid pulled off his multiple layers of coverings.

"I got the gears all changed." Theo said. Tiagat came over to the table with two steaming bowls of soup. Mac pushed his aside, Tiamat pushed it back. She leaned over Mac and pointed a finger an inch from his nose. His eyes crossed as he looked at it.

"Look, you are trying to do the impossible. If you don't get prepared you will die. If you die what happens to Jack and the rest of us? You don't have the luxury of shoving help aside." Mac's eyes met the woman's fiery eyes. They were a light brown with an odd glint, like tigereye. Mac glanced over at Jack. His breathing was more labored. Owan had started filling bags with snow and packed them around the feverish man. Mac met Tiagat's eyes and nodded. She smiled and patted his cheek.

"Now that's a good boy." Mac felt his face flush. He shot her an angry look and opened his mouth to complain. She smiled and filled his open mouth with a hot spoonful of fish soup. Mac bent forward choking pulling the hot spoon out. Tiagat laughed and turned to help Gela and Celia gather clothing for Mac. Mac breathed through his mouth trying to take the heat away. Theo laughed. Mac glared at him. Tiagat took pity on Mac and brought him a wooden tankard of snowmelt. Mac downed half the glass in two gulps.

"Whew, ok. Theo, I need to show you this." Theo grinned and leaned over Mac's shoulder. Mac took him through the math and showed him the recipe explaining how it should be used. Theo almost shook with excitement as he understood it part by part. Mac smiled. In another life, he might have been a teacher and would have loved a student like Theo. If he survived this, he'd have to see what he could do to help the kid learn. His knowledge has already outgrown this little village.

"Ok, any questions?"

"I get that we have to decrease the inertia for the new rotors to work, but how do we do it. In the blizzard we have enough wind so it's not a problem, but when it's quiet out…?" Mac smiled.

"Theo, I'm glad you asked." Mac went to push his soup away but stopped seeing Tiagat's fiery eyes glare at him from across the room, "Let me get this down and I'll go over it, ok? You need to eat too." Theo sighed and nodded. The pair sat down like naughty children told to eat their broccoli and finished the thick soup as fast as possible. When they were done, Tiagat immediately filled the bowls. Mac went to complain. Tiagat raised an eyebrow. Mac shook his head, too tired to fight. He ate the second bowl tasting it less than the first.

He scraped the last chunk of fish from the bowl and shoved the bowl away before Tiagat thought he could attack a third bowl. He turned back to Theo.

"Mac! Mac, no…!" Mac felt his heart drop at the pain in Jack's weak hoarse voice. Mac stood up wincing as his thigh complained.

"Hey, buddy." Mac said softly as he leaned a hip on Jack's cot. The snow melted off his partner's overheated body. Jack's eyes were slit open. Mac bundled his friend's throat in ice. Jack's head writhed back and forth. Mac dug under the bags of snow and pulled out Jack's hand. Mac yelped as the hand grabbed his shirt front and dragged him closer to Jack's face. Mac's front soaked through. Jack's eyes were half open.

"If you hurt him, I'll end you." Jack growled. Mac tried to pull away but Jack's grip was like a steel clamp.

"Jack, nobody's going to hurt me. It's ok, big guy. I'm ok. We're safe." Jack blinked his eyes slowly focusing on Mac's face.

"Mac?"

"Yeah, brother, it's me." Jack's face crinkled into a smile and he let Mac's shirt go. Before Mac could back away Jack wrapped Mac in a double armed hug. Mac blew snow out of his face. He returned Jack's hug. Jack shivered, but Mac could feel waves of heat radiate from the anguished man.

"Mac, man where've you been. I thought...I thought you were gone." Mac sighed and pulled Jack closer gently rocking him.

"Jack, you know I'd never leave you behind." Jack slumped back his heavy eyes closing.

"You 'k?" He asked. Even out of it, Mac found he couldn't meet Jack's eyes and lie to him.

"It's gonna be fine, big guy, I promise." Jack nodded and let out a long slow sigh falling back asleep. Mac stepped back and shook snow off his arms. He leaned on the edge of the cot his shoulders slumped. He just wanted to collapse and sleep or burst into tears or...something. Mac closed his eyes and breathed deeply until he was steady again. He stood up and turned jumping. Gela stood in front of him.

"Mac, come with me." Mac frowned down at her glancing at Theo who was poring over Mac's equations, "MacGyver?" Mac's eyes met Gela's immovable gaze.

 _Brother, there are some women who are a force of nature, don't fuck with them kiddo. You might as well try to fly underwater._ Mac smiled down at Jack absently straightening his arm across his chest. Of all the weird advice the older man had given him over the years, that might just be the most valuable. Mac looked at Gela and nodded. He meekly followed her to a table close to the fireplace. Celia sat facing the fire stirring a jar of a foul smelling cream.

"Ok, strip." Mac blinked at Gela.

"What?"

"Strip, we need to take care of that leg." Again Mac opened his mouth to protest. He found himself the focus of three glaring women. Women sighed and undid the buttons on his shirt. He chose to ignore Theo's snickering. He figured the kid must be enjoying having the women bully someone else for once. Mac pulled off his shirt. He shivered. Even though it was warm he felt cold, vulnerable. Gela walked over and examined the bruises Mac had acquired during the mission. Mac squirmed when she grabbed his chest and pushed a particularly tender spot.

"Ow! Will you stop!" Mac growled. Gela looked at him sweetly.

"Now the pants, off." Mac sighed. Being in the army, Mac had lost most of his shyness but having three women study him in detail as he striped to his boxers was enough to make any man shudder. Mac moaned as he slid his pants down over his thigh. He swayed. His thigh felt three times bigger than it should be and tender.

Gela pushed him back until he slumped into a chair. Tiagat brought over a small bowl with steaming hot soapy water. Mac gasped and gritted his teeth as his pants were taken completely off and his foot was raised to another chair. Mac winced. The two knitting-needle wounds were red edged, swollen and oozed yellow-green puff. A small reddened spiderweb spread from the puncture holes. They looked like bullet holes in glass.

Gela spoke to the other two in the lyrical language of the region. All three women stared at Mac. Mac huffed.

"Ladies, we need to hurry this up." He proposed in a soft voice. The three women shared a look and nodded. Tiagat bent and scrubbed the wounds. Mac closed his eyes and bit his lip at the agony ripping through his thigh. When she was done, Mac had enough time to take in a relieved breath.

"I'm sorry, Mac." Celia said. Mac blinked.

"Aw no." He whispered. Celia smiled at him then poured concentrated lemon juice from a can into the wound. Mac's neck muscles stretched as he leaned his head back and yelled. There was a brief pause then the process was repeated on the other wound. Mac sat breathing fast. He hardly felt Celia spread the thick cream on both wounds.

"There all done. You did well." Gela said as she wrapped a thin cheesecloth bandage around the wounds. Mac sucked in air and forced himself to straighten in the chair. He was covered in sweat.

"Thanks…" He whispered, "What's in that stuff?" Celia smiled.

"Fish oil mixed with seal fat."

"It'll keep it sealed in this weather and help it heal."

"The lemon juice…"

"Was to clean it out, yeah. That's brilliant. Thank you." Mac smiled as the sting abated. He reached out for his clothes. Tiagat pulled them away. She slid over a pair of homemade long johns and long sleeved undershirt across the table. Mac didn't argue. He stood and dressed quickly. The clothes were tight, but he thought that might be how they were suppose to be. They were soft and absorbed his sweat. The women all grinned and talked in their language breaking out in giggles. Mac rolled his eyes and returned to Theo. He ran through what he needed the kid to do while he was gone. Theo gulped. Mac grabbed him by the shoulders and ducked to meet his green eyes.

"Look, you can do this. You have to do this for me. Ok?" Mac measured Theo. Theo met his gaze and jutted out his chin. He nodded.

"I will do my part, you better do yours." Mac smiled.

"That's the plan." Theo jumped forward and pulled Mac into a tight hug. Mac stood stiff, surprised for a minute before bending and returning the gesture.

"You have to come back, you have to. Promise me?" Mac nodded.

"I'll be back, I promise." Theo's eyes glittered with tears. He turned and jogged away before they fell. Mac rubbed his face. He crossed to the table piled with odd clothing. Under the careful eye of the three Trailsafe mavens, Mac dressed in layers upon layers. When he could barely move, they nodded with satisfaction.

Mac crossed to Jack. Owan was listening to Jack's chest with the makeshift stethoscope. He looked up at Mac with a serious look. Mac nodded. What needed to be said that wasn't said already? Mac bent so his head was level with Jack's.

"Jack, I gotta go save the day. I wish you were with me, brother, but I guess it's my turn to _wrangle that thar' bull to the ground._ " Mac swore Jack wrinkled his nose at Mac's bad impression, "Seriously, partner. I promise to come back if you promise to stay with me. You promised me once you'd never leave me. Please don't…" Mac's voice gave out. He angrily brushed aside tears. He stood and kissed Jack gently on the forehead, "See you in a day or so." He whispered. He turned and waved at the others as he walked through the cold dark building to the front door. He paused to study his notes on headings and the GPS. He tucked these into a Ziploc bag and put them in a pocket he could reach easily. The swirling black swirl roared against the door. Mac pulled a wool scarf over his face and stepped into the savage claws of the storm.


	7. Chapter 7

In the center of Dante's hell a half-frozen demon spews out soul numbing winds across all of the other circles. Mac stumbled to his knees and shook frozen flakes from his eye lashes. He blinked furiously to keep the moisture in his eyes from freezing. Mac pushed to his feet and took a pause to glance at the GPS. The lit numbers were a lifeline. They gave him a reassuring sense that eventually the darkness he stomped through would end-one way or another. The blurry numbers was also the only way he knew where he was and which direction he had to go. Mac tucked the bag away and continued on, spurred by the image of Jack's pale sweating confusion.

Mac's heart pounded as he walked and his lungs squeezed like a broken accordion. The sky had started to lighten, but it was a dull grey hidden behind a swirling tunnel of ice. Sharp stings of ice excoriated any flesh it reached. The animal skins served him well being warm and mostly water proof, but they hung off him and frequently tripped him. He wore two snowshoes fashioned from a bent window screen. The snow still came up to his knees. Worst of all the wind howled at him like Dante's demon. His ears rang with its fury. Voices and faces came to him through the wall of snow and blare of wind. Mac ignored them knowing his brain was conjuring phantoms as it desperately tried to make sense of the cold hell.

A deep frigid fatigue sank deep into his bones. Mac's head throbbed with the need to stay on task. He closed his eyes against the cold and pulled the scarf over his face warming it a long minute. Mac again reigned in his wild imagination and shoved away the muscle aches and pushed forward. Mac suddenly found himself in a snowbank up to his hips. Mac paused and checked the GPS again. He sank back and covered his face. He was so tired; he didn't think he could take another step.

"Well, the kid with the hamburger name! What the hell are you doing in that hole?" Mac looked up surprised to see Jack standing over him. He was kitted out like he had been in Afghanistan with his sniper rifle over his shoulder. His boots were ankle deep in the snow.

"You could help me." Mac shouted to be heard over the snow. The wailing wind sucked his words away the second he puffed them out. Jack laughed and crouched beside Mac.

"No can do amigo! I finished my tour, this is all on you."

"Dammit, Jack!" Mac screamed as the figure stood, turned and vanished into the sideways blowing snow. Mac swallowed refusing to cry. Any tear he cried would instantly become a tearsicle. Mac laughed. That was a Jackism if he ever heard one. Mac sighed and pushed forward through the snow bank.

Mac was out of breath. He checked the GPS again and corrected his path. Mac stared down at his feet, bowed under the constant assault.

"I hate the snow, don't you?" Mac looked over to see Riley walking beside him. She only wore a short leather coat and had her arms across her chest as she leaned into the wind. Mac didn't uncover his face to answer; he nodded. She laughed.

" You should rest, you look like you're going to drop." Mac paused fighting a yawn. He was so tired. He fell to his knees then folded into the snow face first. He closed his eyes.

"Angus! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mac groaned and looked up. His Dad stood over him giant from Mac's ground view. His arms were crossed and his face severe, "Is this how you help others? Is this how you keep your promises? I'm so disappointed in you. If you're going to give up, just stay there and die. I don't care." Mac's father shook his head and turned to walk away.

"NO! Dad, wait!" Mac scrambled to his feet and followed his dad, but his dad had vanished. Mac's scream blended with the bawling of the endless snow. Mac broke into a cough. His lungs felt like sandpaper ground through them. Mac shook his head; he had to keep going. He checked the GPS and returned to the right heading.

Mac fell into a daze. He would hear voices yell at him and winced. Matty, Bozer, Frankie...why did they all have to shout so loud.

"Will you shut up!" Mac screamed. For a long moment everything was blocked out except the endless horror grating at him from all sides. The snow was now a periwinkle color. Mac thought it must be morning. It did nothing to raise his spirits. Owan had told him the storm should be getting better in the morning. Better according to whom? Mac muttered softly. His legs were going numb. He pushed them ahead.

Mac was so out of it, he didn't hear a new roar join the constant bellow of snow until he almost fell down a steep bluff. Mac blinked a long minute his frozen brain taking a minute to catch up. A hundred feet straight down was the frothing rage of the ocean as it pounded against the stone shore. Mac sniffed. He could taste the tang of brine. He studied the map and carefully picked his way along the cliff to the fishing wall. Mac was glad he couldn't see the whole thing. The few feet in front of him was scary enough.

The path was two feet across and made of stones packed flawlessly together. Even without the bumps, it was uneven. Mac crouched and touched the cold stones. An inch of black ice covered them. Mac swallowed. Looking down the otherside, the drop was the same but he couldn't hear the menacing growl of the tide. Mac fell to all fours and started to crawl along the wall. His hands and knees froze on contact. Before he went ten feet, he couldn't feel them. Mac ducked feeling something heavy knock into his head. He looked up to see a rusted tow chain. Mac let out a breath of relief. Mac tucked his hands inside the layers of clothes as he pondered his options. His glance fell on his snowshoes. He smiled and took the right one off. His cold hands fumbled and the shoe went tumbling into the calmer side of the wall.

"Son of a bitch!" Mac gritted. He warmed his hands longer then grabbed the left one. His tired muscles shook as he reshaped the metal into a fair hook. This he wrapped around the chain. He tugged off his belt and connected it to the hook. Clinging to the belt, Mac buckled himself to the hook. Stepping sideways he slid along the fishing wall slowly. His heart thudded like a drowning goose. He was a third of the way across when the strongest waves hit. Mac yelped in surprise as he was swept off the wall.

Mac dangled from his waist over the edge. Mac's head slammed into the stone as another wave slammed into him. Mac coughed trying to suck in water. His body was assaulted by two more waves before he realized his layers of clothing were absorbing water and becoming heavier. The belt wouldn't hold much longer. Mac pivoted and scrambled for the top of the wall. His nails tore and fingers bled as they slipped off again and again. Mac pushed out with his legs praying the belt didn't snap under the stress.

He then used his forward momentum to swing harder into the wall. Breath whooshed out, but he managed to catch the edge of the hook. Mac moaned as he forced his weak muscles to move. He finally got his purchase and made it to the top of the wall. Another wave pummeled him and he almost flew forward over the chain. Mac wrapped his hands around the metal and clung to it turning his head away from the biting water. Mac inched along the wall desperately hugging the chain with both arms. After he left the center of the wall, the waves weren't so aggressive. The effect of the frozen water and snow was devastating. Mac slumped into three feet of snow when he finally hit land off the wall.

He rasped in air sounding like a broken violin. He shuddered beyond tired and cold. Mac didn't know how much farther he could go. He reached in to pull out the GPS and froze in horror. It was gone. He'd lost it. Mac slumped. He'd given it his best.

"Sorry Jack." Mac said as he collapsed face first into the snow. When he woke up, Mac couldn't feel anything. He groaned and pushed himself onto his back. The blizzard snow glinted like fairy dust as it flew at him. It was beautiful. The gossamer of fairies. Mac smiled. He wasn't cold, he didn't hurt. He was content to lay watching the fairies circle and play above him.

"You are one weird dude, man." Mac looked over to see Jack sitting cross legged beside him. Jack wore his usual black T shirt and jeans. He sipped a beer, cocked his head and looked down at Mac.

"Jack, you're alright!" Mac muttered through dry and cracking lips. Jack shook his head.

"No, I'm dying, but it's ok. Like I said, no one I would rather die with."

"I'm not dying." Mac said. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Really? You're seeing frickin' fairies, dude." Mac frowned. Jack had a point.

"I'm just resting."

"You can rest when you're dead, brother." Mac sighed.

"Jack, sometimes you're a real asshole." Jack grinned and took a long pull of his beer.

"And proud of it, c'mon bud let's go. The helicopter isn't far away." Mac's eyes widened and he staggered to his feet. He fell to his knees. His legs were wobbly at best.

"They made it?"

"Didn't I just say so? Damn kiddo, your ears must be clogged with snow." Mac huffed and rolled his eyes. He shoved one foot through the knee high snow then march-stepped to another step. Mac began to warm up as he fell into an automatic unstable rhythm. He paused and took off the outer layer. Mac turned his bare head into the snow taking a deep breath.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jack bellowed standing beside Mac. Mac looked over.

"I'm hot and need fresh air." Jack's face grew red with anger. He threw his beer deep into the snow.

"Dammit, Mac you're smarter than this! What are the signs of hypothermia?" Mac staggered forward feeling lighter as he tore off layers.

"Mac, answer the damn question?" Mac paused. Question?

"What are the symptoms of hypothermia?" Mac blinked trying to remember, but his brain was too sluggish. It didn't matter anyway. As hot as he felt, how could he be hypothermic? Mac trudged through the snow laughing and reaching his tongue out to capture snowflakes. They didn't seem to be as scary as they had been. The storm must be ending. Mac smiled feeling spring inside.

He stopped and squinted through the snow. He thought he saw the shadow of something just over the next hill. He grinned and pointed at it.

"Jack! We made it! That's the helicopter!"

"Mac...Dammit, kid!" Mac ignored him and started running through the thick snow. He crested the hill and froze. No helicopter. No...nothing. Mac's lungs hitched, working to hard. Mac slumped in the snow. It was so soft, just like his mattress at home. Mac sighed and wriggled deeper into the ice beneath him. Mac yawned. Finally, he could get some rest. He thought there was something he had to do...but he could do it later, he just needed to sleep. He closed his eyes and drifted off to the oceanic roar of the snow blowing over him.


	8. Chapter 8

_Oh, man, Mac! Mac, can you hear me?_

G'way, sleeping.

 _We have to get him out of this snow. Mac? C'mon buddy. Can you open your eyes?_

Mac growled. He'd just gotten to sleep. Why were Bozer and Riley trying to wake him up? The mission had been a hard one, he still hurt everywhere...or felt a cool numbness. He didn't want to wake up into the pain. He and Jack...Jack?

 _He's not here, Mac. C'mon you have to wake up._

Jack not here? Where...Mac opened his eyes alarmed. He hissed when sunlight burned red shadows in his retinas. Jack's in trouble. Mac remembered Jack sweating, screaming for help, dying…? Mac rolled over and tried to push himself up. HIs body twitched but refused to move.

A giant pair of red Yeti stared down at him. Mac blinked but his eyes felt frozen.

The larger blob knelt by his head. Mac squinted confused. The face was all black, a mask? Mac knew Bozer's eyes from anywhere; It didn't make sense. Bozer was at home, safe in California. How could be here? Where was here? A spurt of adrenaline pulled his eyes open.

"There you are bro." A gloved hand came up and pulled the black down. It was Bozer.

"Boze, what'cha doin' here?" Mac's mouth felt gummed shut. He was reassured by Bozer's familiar grin.

"Mac, you're alive. Thank God! C'mon we have to get you up and moving. We'll get you warmed up back at the helicopter." Bozer bent down and Mac felt himself be lifted by his armpits. Mac closed his eyes and moaned. His entire body was tingling and not in a good way.

"Mac, where's Jack?" Mac looked over at Riley who helped hold him up on the other side. Mac blinked trying to work a layer of ice from his eyes.

"Jack?" Mac's voice slurred and his knees buckled. Bozer and Riley ducked under his shoulders and kept him standing. Everything spun. Mac's eyes rolled at the brightness assaulting him. Sun reflected off snow. Mac's head sank forward. There was something...Jack!

"Mac?" Bozer asked. Mac felt his stomach churn as they started moving forcing Mac to step with them or be dragged.

"Urm...Jack...need to get back...dying.." Mac's legs buckled again. His teammates hauled him upright. Mac felt like he was floating. He could see his feet move, but couldn't feel them. He was cold. Very cold. His muscles hurt and he sweated from the work of shivering.

"Mac! C'mon, you gotta wake up!" Riley sounded terrified. Mac forced his head up

"Jack...needs...gotta get back…" Mac's eyes closed and he slumped. He heard Bozer and Riley's alarmed voices floating above him, but he had nothing left except cold. Mac was exhausted.

 _We could go get the exfil team._

 _Nah, I got him._

 _Really?_

 _You don't need to sound so surprised._

Mac whumphed as he was bent limply over Bozer's surprisingly muscular shoulder. Mac felt blood rush to his head as it flopped against Bozer's back.

 _You got him?_

 _Unck, yeah. You know for a skinny white dude he weighs a lot._

 _We gotta move fast, sounds like Jack needs us like yesterday._

 _Yeah and the next blizzard is only a few hours away._

 _I hate snow._

 _No argument from me. Huff. Huff._

 _Boze?_

 _He may be my brother, but he'd darn heavy._

Mac was lulled to rest by their familiar voices and the rocking of Bozer's gait. Mac drifted in and out. Then there were more voices. Mac was aware of hands pulling him from Bozer and Riley. He opened his mouth to complain only a cry escaped as his body was laid straight.

 _It's ok, buddy. You're going to be ok._

Mac's eyes slitted. He was inside, warm. His skin burned. He tried to push the hands away. He had to get back...he had to….Mac sank back breathing hard, his muscles barely working. He blinked his eyes. It took what little energy he had.

Riley knelt beside him and brushed his hair back. Mac frowned at the crunch it made. It took him a few minutes to realize his hair had frozen.

"Gotta get back...rotor…" Mac's lips cracked and hurt. Riley looked down at him scared.

"We have to warm you up first." Riley said. Mac looked up surprised at the gentleness in the young woman's voice. She smiled reassuringly. Mac offered a painful smile back. He blinked, his eyelid sticking before opening again. He was so tired. Mac's body rocked back and forth. He realized he was being undressed. Mac's eyes widened and he went to push aside the grabby hands.

"Mac, take it easy. Your clothes are frozen, we have to get them off." Mac frowned wondering why. Frozen?

"Wh..what…" Mac's words stuck in his mouth his tongue too heavy to form them. He felt his boxer's tugged off and closed his eyes. Blood rushed to his face with embarrassment.

"It's ok, Mac." Riley's voice was reassuring, but only made the embarrassment worse. Mac opened his mouth to speak but his chest seemed to sprout snow. He coughed wincing at the burning in his lungs. He felt hot and cold. His body was all pins and needles. Mac felt sleep call him. He hummed happy as he was wrapped up in a roll of warm blankets. He blinked, forcing his eyes open.

"Jack...Trailsafe...sick...gotta…" Mac's voice squeaked, his throat burned. His eyes again slid shut. He shook his head and forced them open again. He babbled out the GPS coordinates hoping they were the right ones, "Theo...talk to Theo, Owan, Glena…" Mac stopped fighting and drifted into blackness.

A drill kept moving in and out of Mac's skull. He moaned and put a hand on his forehead. A warm hand captured his hand. Mac's eyes snapped open and he sat up his heart pounding.

"Hey, bro it's ok." Bozer said. Mac blinked. He recognized he was in a Phoenix helicopter and it was in flight. He shivered. Looking down Mac realized he was bare chested. Mac blinked. He was naked, under a stack of blankets.

"What the hell?" His voice scratched a sore throat. He winced and frowned at the hand Bozer had captured. An IV dripped into the side of his wrist. He pulled it free. Mac looked at Bozer confused. The fluid was warm. He sat up and yanked the IV out.

"MAC!" Mac jumped and looked up startled. He hadn't seen Riley or two Phoenix medics. They all glared at him. Mac ignored them and went to pull away the blankets. Mac paused. He looked at Bozer.

"Clothes?"

"Mac, you need to rest you've been hypothermic…" Mac blinked at the medic. It took his half frozen head a minute to recognize the redhead. Gillian and the other was her partner Frank. If he knew their last names Mac couldn't remember them.

"Gillian, I need clothes now or I'm going to take a blanket and go outside the second we land as I am." Riley and Bozer shared a glance. The only time Mac ever had this deadly determination was when he was protecting someone he cared about. His drooping eyes glared at them. Bozer sighed. Even looking half dead, he knew from experience that the blonde would do exactly what he said.

"We have a flight suit." Frank offered handing one to Mac. Mac nodded and shimmied into it. He winced as he moved his thigh. Glancing at the wounds he saw they had been stitched and properly bandaged. Mac let out a breath. Civilization, thank God.

Mac zipped up the suit then paused holding his hand against the vibrating shell of the helicopter. Everything spun, his chest hurt and he'd be happy to sleep a year.

"Mac?" Riley's voice sounded like he was floating in a pond. He shook his head and winced at the whirl of dizziness. He didn't have time for this. He glanced at Frank.

"How long before we land." He thought of the five mile distance he'd managed to stagger, they should have landed by now.

"We had to reroute and approach from inland." Mac heard the voice over the cabin's communications. He winced. The speaker was beside his head. Mac rubbed his head. It took a minute before he realized Bozer was talking to him. He hadn't realized how loud their voices were.

"I'm fine, Boze." He frowned, "How much longer?" He asked the air knowing the pilot could hear him through the two way speaker.

"ETA five minutes once we confirm landing area." Mac leaned forward and ran his hands through his hair. His eyes roamed the cabin. Mac felt groggy. He knew he could pass out any minute. That wouldn't get Jack or the people counting on him. His eyes drooped, he swayed. He looked at Gillian.

"I need something to keep me going."

"What? No, that's stupid!"  
"You'll drop dead when it wears off." Mag ignored his teammates his heavy blue gaze focused on Gillian. She shook her head. Mac shot her a cold smile.

"You know I can find it myself." Gillian shook her head. She reached over and grabbed a long syringe. Mac rolled up his sleeve. He accepted the shot without so much as a grimace. Riley, Bozer and Frank gaped at him. Mac didn't notice. He crept from his blanket cocoon and started reaching for things in the shelves of medicines. He set them on his previous bunk.

"At least tell us what you're doing?" Riley growled. Mac nodded.

"Generator?" Mac asked Frank. Frank nodded and pointed to mechanical equipment bolted in the rear of the cabin. Mac eased past Riley and knelt before the generator. It was a small generator designed to run a small amount of voltage for a long time. Mac pulled three emergency lanterns off the shelf and handed them out to Riley who passed them to Bozer. Mac paused and turned to Frank.

"You have an emergency surgery kit?" The man nodded.

"We need that too and anything you have to fight a nasty infection." Mac turned away as he coughed harshly. He leaned a hand against the generator as everything blurred a minute. He shook his head realizing Riley was holding his elbow. Mac coughed and wiped his mouth. He wasn't surprised to see blood smeared along his wrist. Mac glanced up. Riley's head was turned to the cabin. Mac pulled his sleeve over the blood and pulled free from Riley.

His stomach lurched as the helicopter stopped in its path and began to descend. Mac closed his eyes as everything swirled around him. He knew they weren't descending that fast but he felt like he was in a deadfall. He could taste regurgitated fish on the back of his throat. Then there was a soft thump and the motorcycle down. Mac sucked in air trying to convince the world it really didn't need to spin on seven axises at once.

"Mac, you don't look so good." Bozer said at his elbow. Mac gulped back his sick and nodded.

"I'm fine. Bring that stuff we have to help Jack."

Mac's heart broke when he took in his partner. He had gotten worse. The older man was barely sucking in air. His throat was the size of a softball.

"Jack?" Mac looked up to see Riley's tearful eyes as she brushed Jack's hair back. The man was a solid chartreuse. In the bright blue light of the lanterns, he looked like a corpse. Mac swallowed. He glanced over his shoulder. Frank, Gillian and Owan were circled around the emergency surgery kit talking lowly about what needed to happen as they sterilized their hands. Mac wiped his forehead. It was coated with cold sweat. Riley noticed the move. Before she could say anything, he spun and walked into the darkness. There wasn't anything else he could do for Jack. Riley would stay with him and let him know if anything else came up. Mac just couldn't watch...Mac leaned against the wall huffing in congested air. He broke into coughing. He wiped his mouth with a rag he'd snagged from a shelf in the infirmary. Mac wasn't sure, but he thought the blood was darker. He had no idea what that meant. Mac decided it didn't matter. He shrugged his shoulder but couldn't loosen the painful knots in his muscles. With a relentless will, or stubbornness, Mac shoved away his own discomfort.

With the generator, the small area around Jack was warm and there was power to run whatever tools they needed. Jack had been brought back upstairs after the table he rested on was disinfected. The rest of the building was cold. Darkness was coming in and bringing with it another blizzard. All of the residents of Trailsafe were crowded in the main hall. The one lamp that wasn't needed upstairs burned in the center of the room. The fire was dead.

Mac studied the press of people. They had never faced such a crisis, not since Theo's grandfather had built the windmill. The entire village had no more wood. They had even burned the remnants of the broken windmill.

Mac smiled. Bozer sat in the middle of a group of children telling a creepy story. He was in full drama mode waving his hands, pitching his voice just right to bring the kids and more than a few of the adults into his story. Mac shook his head. Bozer had a magic all his own. Mac had found him sucked into the man's stories despite himself. Normally, he didn't have time right now. Mac crossed to the hallway that lead to the kitchen.

"There's the mother fucker who raped me!" Mac's heart skipped and he automatically jumped back his thigh pounding with pain. Martha cackled and tried to scoot her chair forward. Mac let out a sigh of relief. The old bat was tied secure to an enormous cushioned chair.

"Mom, remember what I said…" Cellia said sitting beside her. Martha glared at her and moved to smack her daughter. Celia easily intercepted the gnarled fist. She shot Mac a tired smile. Mac nodded and darted past. Martha continued to swear after him. Mac passed the kitchen. Gela, Tiagat and a group of women whirled around the kitchen. Mac paused. He tried to sniff, but it only caused him to start coughing again. He leaned against the wall taking deep breaths wiping away blood. He felt like cold nails dug into his lungs.

"Mac!" Mac turned and found his arms full of a shivering red-headed boy. Mac returned the gesture. Theo backed up, "I got the differential cogs changed and tightened the rotor motor."

"That's great, Theo. I never doubted you." Mac cleared his throat but his voice didn't get better. Mac ignored the questions he saw in the glints of light reflected in the kid's eyes, "Ok, we have to go get the rotors from the helicopter."

"Mac, the blizzard came in." Mac gritted his teeth he was getting really sick of fucking blizzards.

"It's ok, Theo. We can do it." We have no choice. Mac added silently. Theo nodded then led the way down the hall to the back door.


	9. Chapter 9

As Mac layered up again, he looked out the window at the Blackhawk his brain studying the helicopter. It took up all of the space left open in the center of the small village. Mac leaned forward. It was nicely close to the windmill tower. Mac froned. Each blade weighed 250lbs. They were relatively to get off, but they were also fragile. If they were bent, Mac couldn't use them to replace the windmill. He would also have to take off the swash plate. The torque on the rotor blades is controlled by the swash plates. The helicopter flies by the body leaning in as the wash of the rotor fights to turn out. The swash plates are attached to the controls in the cockpit so the pilot can control the pitch of the helicopter.

"Matty's gonna kill you." Mac jumped and looked over his shoulder. Bozer and a group of beefy men were behind him dressing in layers of warm clothes. Mac smiled at Bozer.

"I'd say she could take it from my pay but she'll probably fire me anyway." Bozer laughed and slapped Mac on the back. Mac turned away bending forward coughing.

"Mac, that doesn't sound good." Mac surreptitiously wiped blood off his lips then faced Boze.

"I'm fine. Let's go talk to Pete and Larry." Pete was the pilot and Larry the copilot. Per orders they never left the helicopter ordered to keep it functional and running. Mac turned to Theo who pushed through the men, "Theo, I need you to rig a pulley system off of the windmill tower." Theo's eyes gleamed with excitement as Mac explained what he wanted. Bozer watched the two of them shaking his head. Mac had found a padawan in this kid. By the quickness of the kid's brain, Bozer didn't think it'd take long for him to blossom into a full Jedi Master.

"Ok, Boze?" Bozer turned his attention back to Mac. If Mac noticed his inattention, he didn't say anything, "I need you to round up and strip wires, steel would be best. I also need a hammer and jumper cables if you can find any." Bozer nodded and motioned to the first guy outfitted for the blowing hell outside. Mac looked back at the rest and nodded toward the door. They trooped after Mac.

Mac's breath was whipped away and his chest burned. He coughed and pulled down his black mask. The arctic coats from Phoenix were surprisingly warm. Mac had added a thick homemade sweater and whale leather pants and boots. His gloves were thick and furry on the inside. Mac's heart pounded in his chest and he felt lightheaded not being able to take in enough air. He ignored it all as he jogged to the helicopter.

Pete and Larry were playing cards and yelped as Mac jumped into the helicopter bringing a blast of cold and snow with him. Mac smiled and would have said something if they weren't on a dire clock. He didn't think the villagers could survive another blizzard without heat, and the generator they used for Jack's surgery did not have a big gas tank. Mac grimaced at the image of Jack sweating unable to breathe.

"Mac, you look like crap." Pete said pushing his ball cap back. Mac smiled and flopped onto the gurney. He took a few deep breaths enjoying the warm air. His chest cramped as he broke into gut busting coughing. He turned aside and wiped his mouth. He leaned back and closed his eyes exhausted.

"Mac?" Larry asked. Mac blinked his eyes open.

"Ok, here's what I need from you guys." Mac explained what he planned to do. The pilots glanced at each other.

"Uh...Mac we feel for these folks, but those are $150, 000 airfoils. We can't…" Mac narrowed his eyes and glared at the two men.

"This is going to happen with you or without you. If you're not going to take part you might as well go inside and explain to the room of people sitting in the dark and cold why you won't help them." Pete opened his mouth to argue. Mac's tired red rimmed eyes challenged him. Pete winced. Mac's desperation was as palpable as his exhaustion. Pete knew Mac and knew the kid would keep working to help people until he fell over dead. Pete decided he'd be damned if it was going to be on his watch.

"Ok, Mac. Let's do this." Mac leaned back and nodded. He glanced at Larry who nodded.

"But Mac? You're going to explain to Matty." Mac grimaced and nodded. He climbed to the rear of the cabin and pulled out a tool kit. The two pilots suited up in winter gear and followed him.

It took all three to undo the bolts. The blinding wind constantly threatened to unseat them from their perch on top of the helicopter. As each foil was loosened it was handed down to waiting hands who hauled it back to the windmill staging area. Mac's breathing was a loud rasp and the dizzying snow mingled with black spots. He kept brushing chilling sweat off his forehead. He ignored everything else except the job he was doing.

Mac managed to remove the housing on the rotor housing and half climbed into the electrical guts of the machine. Peter and Larry exchanged worried glances. The wires led directly to the engine controls and thus through electrical wires to the fuel tank. They knew Mac was extremely skilled in most things he came across but this was a helicopter. Neither one of them would know what the hell to do.

"Mac, say, you've done this before haven't you?" Pete asked. Mac glanced over his shoulder and offered them a mischievous grin.

"No, but there's a first for everything, right?" Pete looked at Larry.

"He hasn't." Larry shrugged they were too into it now to worry about it.

"Ok, pull it out at the ball joint." Pete and Larry grabbed hold and gritted their teeth. Mac lifted from below. His muscles shook and his arms and chest hurt. Pete and Larry tied it with ropes then with as much care as they could lowered it to the others below. Mac sprawled with his eyes closed. The snow shoved itself down his nose and throat. He shook his head. Not yet. They were almost there. He looked up and reached out. Pete and Larry pulled him up and steadied him as he swung back and forth barely able to stand against the gust of the wind. The two pilots studied the younger man and shook their heads sharing a worried glance. They knew there wasn't anything they could say or do to slow Mac down. They helped him off the roof and followed him back to the windmill tower.

Mac stumbled to his knees. He ducked his head and fought the lung agony with each cough. Mac pulled up his mask and breathed. The cold felt good against his reddened skin.

"Mac?" Mac looked up into the worried face of Bozer, "Is that blood?" Boze's shriek tore through Mac's sore head, "Sorry, is that blood." Mac nodded. He was too tired to care. He put a hand on Bozer's shoulder. Bozer stood up and held his friend up with an arm around his waist.

"I'm taking you inside." Mac planted his feet and pushed at Bozer's side forcing the man to stop or drop him.

"N..not yet...almost." Mac managed to gasp. Bozer gritted his teeth for the first time feeling sorry for Jack who had to deal with Mac's stubborness in the worst times.

"Ok, but you my friend are becoming a manager, you tell us what you need, got it?" Mac smiled grimly.

"You sound like Jack." Bozer rolled his eyes and turned to drag Mac to the windmill. Mac gladly leaned on Bozer. The heartbeat thumping in his ears had begun to skip beats. Not good.

Bozer was half satisfied. Mac did manage instead of doing everything, but he stood over everyone seeming in three or four places at once. Bozer gritted his teeth but rolled the ends of the wires into loops and helped Pete and Larry get the battery from the helicopter. He could feel sweat running under his coat. Bozer was cold, tired and tired of being cold. The blizzard was a constant attack by savage claws. Bozer refused to go in and rest when Mac suggested it. He looked at Mac with a stony look that said "after you." Mac shrugged and went back to work.

Mac connected the wires to the battery held up a thin bar of steel and pulled out his gloves. He grimaced as he put one loop around the rotor above where he was going to weld. He knelt and welded the rotors together making sure the air foils faced the direction he wanted.

The others looked away at the brightness and sparks. Bozer gritted his teeth. They didn't have a welding helmet. Mac had made a makeshift one out of a boot and several layers of sunglass lensing. That didn't stop sparks from landing on his body and burning. Occasionally Bozer reached out and smacked a small smoking fire out. The Phoenix arctic gear was meant to be in the cold, not too near a fire. Mac grunted with pain and shook his hand as he pulled the wires from the battery.

Boze was at his side in a second. Mac had burned his right hand. Black blisters rose on his palm.

"That's it, you're going inside. Right now! No argument!" Mac stared at Bozer surprised a long minute. Bozer wasn't taking no for an answer. Before Mac could answer, Bozer grabbed Mac's left arm, spun the skinnier man and bent.

"Boze!" Mac yelped. He broke of coughing. Bozer didn't say anything. HIs face reddened and his lungs pumped like bellows, but he refused to put his friend down. Mac's eyes closed and his head tilted against Bozer's shoulder. It took everything he had to breathe. He didn't think Bozer had the strength or chutzpah to carry him like a bride. Mac was going to have a long talk to his friend about this, after Mac rested. Mac was dimly aware of voices around him. Bozer's voice was a distant echo in the man's chest. Mac couldn't stop coughing and each cough left him more breathless than the last.

Mac groaned as he found himself laid on a bunk in the infirmary. Everything was blurry. Hands pulled at his clothes again. Mac pushed up to sitting and shoved the hands aside. He squinted up at where he thought Bozer's head was.

"Jack?"

"He's fine, Mac. He's resting." Riley's voice said at his elbow. Mac let out a deep breath and broke into coughing. He moaned at the agony torn from his entire chest. Mac was pushed back as he fought to take in air. A warm damp cloth washed blood off his chin.

"Wind-"

"It's ok, Mac. We got it figured out." Theo said from the growing swirl of darkness around him. Mac nodded and stopped fighting. He closed his eyes and surrendered to his bone aching weariness, drifting away from pain into darkness.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

-uh-oh, will they be able to do it without Mac? Hmmm. Just kidding. I have a theory about Mac's dad. Want to hear it? If not stop reading now-

Ok, they gone? I think Mac's dad might be Oversight. In the cast list for next week they have a guest spot labeled for oversight and no one listed as Mac's dad. Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean anything, the sneaky bastards could very well be doing it on purpose. Cage is also back. I'm willing to bet she is working with Matty to help Mac. Mac tries to leave Phoenix, but I bet he won't. Anyway, had to blurt about it before I exploded. Thanks-Pox


	10. Chapter 10

The water was clear and cold. Jack shoved aside sharp ice floaters as he knifed down into the darker deep. He reached out and almost touched the slick tail of the penguin. The penguin looked back at him, sneered and whizzed away into the darkness with a satisfied snicker. Dammit.

Jack could feel the vibration of the transponder through the water. If he didn't get it they would have no way of tracing the new stealth submarines the Chinese had mastered. Jack's lungs burned, his throat was becoming clogged with ice. He was tired, but he forced himself to swim faster.

Suddenly he was surrounded by darting shadows. No. Jack opened his mouth in shock losing precious bubbles of air when a penguin lashed out slamming its fin into the back of his head. Jack lost momentum. A flipper came around his throat.

"Time to die, Dalton." The penguin hissed in his ear. Another penguin darted forward with a gleaming shive of ice in its flipper. Jack screamed as the sharp point stabbed deep into his side…

"BLAAAAH!" Jack screamed as he jerked awake. He gasped when his scream came out as a squeak that hurt his throat-badly. Jack ran his hand along his bare chest and was surprised to see a dressing where he had been stabbed in his dream. His eyes widened. Had that been real? Had penguins gone all Planet of the Apes? Had they taken over the world? Jack's heaving chest burned as if he'd been holding his breath for six hours.

"Jack, you're awake!" Jack jumped and looked over to see Bozer standing beside him. Jack stared at him a long minute. Bozer reached out and hugged Jack. Jack absently returned the gesture his eyes taking in their environment.

"Boze, where are we?" Jack's voice warbled and speaking hurt. Jack grimaced.

"The forgotten village at the end of time, arctic style." Jack frowned and sat back wiping his face. He scowled. A familiar bandage on the back of his right hand announced he had had an IV. Why would he have an IV? He studied his surroundings more closely.

He was in an infirmary but it wasn't at Phoenix. The only lighting was a coleman lantern on a table beside him. On the same table surgical instruments floated in a bowl of rubbing alcohol. Jack realised he was cold. Bozer handed him a Phoenix helicopter flight suit.

"Boze, did the penguin's take over?" Bozer stared at him a long minute.

"Penguins?"

"Yeah, they're like the Corleone family…"

"JACK!" Riley screeched cutting off Jack's squeaky rant. Jack grinned and held out his hands and engulfed Riley pulling her close. He smelled her unique Riley smell and grinned. He froze pulling back.

"Hey, Ri. Where's Mac?" He expected to hear Mac was off making one of a million inventions that would save the world. Jack realized he might still be a bit out of it. Not out of it enough to miss the serious look that passed between Riley and Bozer. Jack threw his legs over the side of the table he was on. Jack looked down surprised. His legs were bare. Jack peeked under the blanket wrapped around him. He was naked!

Jack reached up. His hair was wet. His throat was sore and he'd been stabbed in the side. All he remembered was trudging through snow then a waiting room? Jack felt dread in his gut. He wrapped the blanket and hopped off the table. Everything went white a minute. He blinked and shook his head waiting for the dizziness to pass. He realized that he was sitting in a chair beside the bunk he'd been on. He leaned forward and held his head. It was going to explode. He looked up at Riley and Bozer who crouched around him looking worried.

"Ok, you two better tell me what's going on and where Mac is, right now." Taking turns they did. Jack's jaw bunched.

"Where is he?" Jack growled.

"He's down the hall." Jack stood up holding onto his waist toga. Everything seemed to spin sideways. Bozer steadied Jack. Jack pushed at him, but the younger man didn't let go.

"Easy bro, why don't you get dressed then we'll walk you there?" Jack narrowed his eyes. He had to see Mac, NOW. Jack forced back the automatic need to hit something he got whenever he didn't know Mac was safe. Riley turned around telling Jack about his filled lungs and tonsillitis. Jack paused.

"I had my tonsils out." He croaked. Riley looked over her shoulder and squinted her eyes against the pale naked Jack.

"Can't unsee that now, thanks." She muttered. Jack ignored her.

"My Mama told me they could grow back." Bozer said.

"Bozer, don't be stupid. When they're gone, they're gone."

"Obviously not."

"ALRIGHT you two." Jack squeaked as loudly as he could. He stopped closing his eyes against the pain that seemed to rip down his throat. His two teammates shared a guilty look. Jack leaned one hand on Bozer's shoulder, "Let's go." Riley took the lantern and held it out as they moved through the empty day care. Jack huffed feeling like he'd run a dozen miles. Bozer paused looking at him worried. Jack glared at him and tugged the younger man forward.

They came to a long well-lit corridor. Riley turned the lantern off and set it on a table filled with games. She turned to take Jack's other hand helping him walk down the hall. Jack squinted against the brightness and felt like he was going to puke. Everything seemed to wobble around him. This wing was warmer. Jack took a deep breath wincing at the pull on his side. It felt so nice to be warm.

Jack heard a vacuum. He glanced at Ril. Riley patted his shoulder. Jack swore he knew what to expect. He'd seen Mac hypothermic before, hell he'd been hypothermic before and recently, Jack corrected. But he couldn't have guessed how bad Mac would look. Jack's knees went rubbery and everything snapped with static.

A cool cloth dabbing his head woke him up again. Jack blinked and moaned. He was stretched on a cot. The lights above him were dimmed but still sawed through his brain. Jack moved to sit up and laid back groaning holding his side.

"Mac?" Jack groaned.

"He's right there." Jack blinked and looked up to an elderly lady. The woman was a pasty pale with dark circles under her eyes. Jack frowned. He'd seen her somewhere… She had a kind smile and friendly eyes.

"It's ok, Jack. You just need to take it easy until you get your strength back." Jack nodded and gently pushed the woman out of the way. He followed the sound of the vacuum to a cot beside him. His breath caught.

Mac laid unmoving propped almost to sitting against a piece of plywood braced by a complicated system of wires and driftwood. Beside the cot a tall worn tank of oxygen was connected to the small motor. Jack could hear the hiss of the oxygen over the growl of the motor. A tube from the tank ran to the vacuuming ribbed tube which stretched up to an oxygen tank made out of saran wrap, duct tape and what looked like half of a garment bag. Mac's breathing sounded like Darth Vader. His face was reddened and peeling. His chest was covered by a steaming towel which caused the oxygen tent to mist leaving droplets to run down its side. Mac's hair was wet and slick against his skin. Mac's hands were pale and peeling as were his feet which stuck out from a pile of blankets. An IV poured into his arm.

Jack's arms shook as he sat up. The old woman helped support him and waited for him to take in the whole situation. He looked up at her pain on his face.

"He's as comfortable as we can make him. My name's Gela. I doubt you remember meeting me." Jack shook his head as he absently put a hand on the woman's shoulder to wobble to his feet. Gela stepped beside him and helped him cross to the chair set up beside the bed. Jack barely took in the handmade recliner filled with pillows and blankets. A small pillowed table sat in front of it. Gela helped him into the chair, put his feet up on the table and covered him with the blankets. Jack didn't notice.

"Mac?" Jack husked. He put his hand on Mac's arm not wanting to cause more skin to slough off from his hands, "Mac, brother?" Jack's heart throbbed full with fear. Mac's silver-blue eyes slowly opened. He turned his head then grinned when he saw Jack.

"You 'k?" Mac's voice was slurred and breathless. Jack felt tears run down his face as he squeezed Mac's bicep. He nodded.

"I thought the penguins had taken over." He blurted. Mac blinked at Jack confused.

"Penguins?"

"In my dream, guess how it ended?" Mac chuckled then broke off into deep ripping coughs. Mac leaned his head back. Jack almost screamed at the red blood that splashed down his chin. Gela moved forward and unzipped the front of the impromptu oxygen tent. She gently wiped Mac's face. She pulled the towel on his chest off. Tiagat approached with another one that steamed even in the warm room.

Mac's chest was reddened and Jack could feel the heat of the towel as it was spread across his chest again. Mac closed his eyes as the steam made him cough. Jack winced in sympathy as the bloody coughs seemed to be dragged from the kid's feet up. Gela again wiped Mac's face clean then left rezipping the oxygen tent. Mac turned half-lidded eyes to Jack and twitched the corners of his mouth. Jack smiled back running a hand up and down Mac's arm. Mac was out in seconds his breathing smoothing to a slow Darth Vader breathing. Jack leaned back in the nest of pillows and pulled the blankets up to his chest.

He couldn't believe Mac did everything Riley and Bozer had said he'd done. Jack smiled proudly. No, he did believe it. Jack felt a warm glow to the left of where he'd been stabbed-for a chest tube, not by a penguin-Jack had to remind himself.

Mac had gone through frozen hell, saved him, saved an entire village. Then collapsed with frostbitten lungs and body. Jack rubbed away a run of tears he couldn't hold back.

"You're gonna kill me, brother." Jack didn't know if he said it out loud or not. The vacuum motor was louder than his diminishing voice. Jack tunneled his hand under the edge of the oxygen tent and carefully brushed Mac's bangs away from his face. Mac leaned toward Jack and sighed. Jack smiled, pleased. He felt the same way. Jack leaned back and snuggled into the pillows that oddly smelled like fresh lavender. He kept one arm stretched over onto Mac's bunk as he drifted off into dreams without penguins.

It took 3 days before the storm lightened enough for Riley to use the sat phone to contact Phoenix. They had a rescue helicopter parked in Juneau and was there in four hours. Jack found he would miss the natives of Trailsafe. They were hardy, creative and kind. He glanced at Mac who slept through the good-byes. Theo a red-headed kid seemed the most hurt by this. Jack told him he reminded Jack of Mac when Mac was a snot-nosed recruit with a funny hamburger name. Theo lit up. Jack told him stories as Mac was transferred to the helicopter and placed in a modern oxygen tent and given medication from the 21st century. Jack still would never lose his gratitude for the red headed kid who had made the oxygen tent that had saved Mac's life. Jack vowed to check into getting something in the village for this kid, maybe a computer, or at least a book on how to build one. Jack had no doubt Theo could do that with rubber bands and glue or something. Baby MacGyvering should be encouraged especially in a frozen rock like Trailsafe.

It fell to Jack to explain what happened to the multi million dollar helicopter. Jack saw the worried faces around him and lied. He said it had been lost in the narrow channel upon arrival. When Matty started demanding answers, Jack said his throat hurt and he couldn't talk anymore and hung up on her. Pete, Larry, Riley and Bozer agreed to go with the lie, but Jack decided to watch Pete and Bozer knowing they'd flip on him when Matty gave them THAT look. Cowards. It was worth it just to see Theo's face light up when told he had most of a helicopter to take apart to help the people. When Jack finally slumped into a jumpseat on the rescue for the rescue helicopter he smiled at the sight of the red-headed string bean crawling up and down the outside of the Blackhawk waving his hand to the group of villagers who came out to see them off. The snow still blustered, but compared to the back to back blizzards, the natives acted as if it were spring.

Jack leaned back. He glanced at Mac who slept soundly after getting a nice dose of morphine for pain and to help ease his respirations. Gillian and Frank worked with another medic Matty had sent to hang IV's, take blood, and a hundred other things Mac would hate if he was awake. Jack saw Riley and Bozer leaning against the shell of the new Blackhawk snoring. He was proud of his kids. They had done right by him and Mac. Jack leaned back closing his eyes. He felt guilty he'd failed in his job to protect them, but had to admit they did a freaking amazing job at protecting him. Especially Mac, as usual. Jack drifted off to sleep. Fuck penguins.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

****And there you have it, no offense meant to penguins everywhere but you never know. Their cuteness could be a trick as they wait for us stupid pink beings to turn away…

ANYway, Thank you for reading, commenting, and favoriting/following. I had fun with this one. Next on deck is a story called Rabbit where I return to the world of my Valhalla stories. I decided I left too much hanging and who can resist a *****Mac! Sorry didn't want to give away the story for anyone who hasn't read the previous stories yet. Then it's that time of year-Bits and Bobs season 2! All of the tags, missing scenes etc. I've been pondering. I rewatch the entire season and post story by story. Eventually Tempest will follow, working out some kinks. Hope you enjoy them as much as I like writing them.

It amazes me-A year ago, this week I posted my very first fanfiction ever. How far we've come, haven't we? It's all thanks to you! Thank you from the side of my heart-I know they say bottom, but you don't really want to go in the mess there heh. Heh. LOL. POX


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